


Resolution

by Moth1988



Category: Sam & Max
Genre: 305, Angst, Arguing, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moth1988/pseuds/Moth1988
Summary: There's nothing Sybil can say to make this situation any easier for him, but she can sure try.
Relationships: Max/Sam (Sam & Max)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely wayyy different from what I usually write, but I swear a very long work is coming soon, more in the vain of what you all are used to haha ! 
> 
> I wrote this after finally getting my hands on and completing the game. It definitely hits different when you're playing it for yourself lmao !

"I ain't doing it."

She sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. 

"Max, listen, you're the only one who can--"

He grits his teeth, a scowl forming on his features, brow knitted and eyes narrowed. "I said; _I'm not gonna do it_."

Sybil Pandemik knows him, at least somewhat, she's certainly known him longer than anyone else here. Well, at least out of everyone _not_ currently rampaging the city.

That's probably why the whole group had asked her to talk to him, probably thinking he wouldn't shoot her due to sentimental reasons or something like that. She knows better, though, knows he probably won't shoot her just for the convenience of not doing so. " _Max_ ," She stresses, a deep sigh making it's way through her body as Max glares at her. She doesn't take it personally. Anyone would be in a bad mood after being put into a situation like this one.

And she should know; she used to be a therapist once. Well, at least for a week or so. Enough time to jot down the basics.

"Look, I know this is difficult for you, but you have to listen to me--" She hardly gets out before the lagomorph is cutting her off with a loud laugh.

"Oh, _difficult_ , Sybil? Really? Ya think this is ' _difficult_ ' for me?" His tone drips with sarcasm, a classic defense mechanism, and he sounds just about on the border of hysterics. She isn't too surprised, anyone would be when asked to do what they're asking of him.

He's been fiddling with his gun for the past ten minutes, and she'd probably be nervous about the way he's waving it through the air if she wasn't so sure that it acted as nothing more than a comfort object right now. Just something to ground him when there was absolutely nothing grounded about what was happening outside the lab's walls. "That ain't the _half_ of it, Sybil!"

She shakes her head, more to herself than anyone else.  
  
There's nothing she can say right now to change the circumstances, though she certainly wishes there was. 

She's witnessed many, _many_ otherworldly things take place near her office over the years, of course due to the two of them coming by fairly regularly and the fact that she lived only a block away from their office and had ever since she moved to town years ago. She's seen things, heard things she couldn't quite understand or explain, but nothing like this. 

Sure, the country and the world itself had been at stake a few times before, but it never really seemed to pose a tangible threat. Until now, at least.

"Ya don't understand, _no one_ here does! All ya care about it that stupid city and gettin' rid of him. That's _it_! Ya don't care that if I press that damn button," He eyes the controller held softly in Sybil's hands. It's a simple little thing, a grayish rectangle with a reaching antenna on the top of it. The whole morbid ensemble is tied together with a big red button glaring on the front of it, an ugly reminder of what's at stake.

Max refuses to take it, just eyeing the thing and delving further into hysterics. "If I press that button," He continues, and Sybil doesn't miss the way his voice grows a tad softer as stares at it. "Sam _dies_."

He doesn't sound angry anymore, and that's the worst part about it. Max just sounds like he's very slowly coming to terms with the resignation that's hung over the room for the past hour or so.

It sounds like it's finally taking it's toll on him, like he's finally understanding it.

Sybil sighs, setting down the remote control onto the nearby lab table and remaining quiet when she leans back against it and stares down at the ground.

If Sybil knows anything, she knows psychology, and she knows that Max needs a moment. Not only that, but he needs the time to _process_ this. Nothing about this situation gives him the time to do so.

He'd been too busy doing just about anything that even had a _slight_ chance of reversing this, too busy to even consider the possibility that there may be nothing that could be done at all.

He'd been upbeat, almost deleriously so, until about an hour ago where Momma Bosco sat him down herself and explained to him that they were running out of options. 

She'd explained to him that she could do it herself, just press the button and end this. Sybil had listened from across the way, she'd heard the way he was yelling at her like yelling would change a thing. 

The scientist had told him that it wouldn't feel right to do that, though, she felt that there was only _one_ person who should do this. If he so chose, she wasn't going to force him.

He should be the one to press the button and set off the attack. And Max had agreed, but begged for just a few more hours to try and figure something out. Then the time came, and he was suddenly being forced to accept the fact that _this_ was it. There wasn't anything they could do.

But how exactly can somebody wrap their head around that? Even Sybil struggles to grasp it.

If Sam keeps it up, there's going to be a lot more than just the city at stake, and it's a fact that's been hanging over their heads since this whole mess had first started. "I know." She breathes after a few beats of silence, and watches as Max's expression falls. 

He knows, too. 

Max isn't as brainless as he acts; the guy is actually fairly intelligent, just doesn't really capitalize on it at all. She knows that he understands it, as hard of a concept as it is to grasp. "Sybil," He speaks, finally breaking the fragile silence in the room, and the quiet between them makes it easy to notice the way his voice shakes.

It's... _difficult_ to see; somebody usually so optimistic look so utterly defeated. "Don't make me." It's almost a whisper, and it's desperate as his eyes flicker over her face, like he's searching for just about any other option. But there _isn't_ any, and she thinks he knows that.

Sybil used to think that her breakup with Abe had been the most painful thing she'd ever experience; but now, as she watches the lagomorph's face fall so slowly that she can practically watch the realization sink in, she's doubting that. "I'm sorry, Max." She sighs, and watches as Max's nose twitch in a sort of stifled agitation that expresses itself throughout his whole body. Sybil's always found body language fascinating, but right now it doesn't seem nearly as enthralling. "I _really_ _am_ , I wish I could tell you something different but," She shakes her head. "That's just not realistic." Max doesn't respond, just looks at her, and she didn't know that silence could ever be so loud. "We've tried _everything_ , Max." She begins to reason with a strain of desperation in her voice, because of course nobody _wants_ this, but what other option do they have? 

They don't have a lot of time, another hour more and the city could be completely destroyed. Not only the city, but just about everything _else_ if Sam is allowed to reach his, as Dr. Norrington put it, _'full psychic potential'_. The whole thing seems entirely unreal, and even she has trouble processing it as reality.

Max's hands shake, and then he's smiling. It's weak, and it's just about the definition of unhealthy coping mechanisms and instability when he starts to giggle. Maybe it would be more alarming if she didn't know the laughter is just a stress reaction on his part. It's just his reaction to the realization sinking in, and it's not entirely unheard of when talking about grief. "Ain't that _ironic_?" He giggles and yet she watches as his eyes become glossy and tears start to make their way down his face. It could be because of his laughter, but she really doubts that. "Sam used to tell me that uh...that he'd be ' _lost without me_ '." He laughs, so hard that he's folding in on himself. "Look at me _now_ , huh?"

His laughter trails off, and then he's left looking up at her, and she _swears_ he's trembling.

He looks scared, absolutely _terrified_ and she's never seen that look on his face before now. 

He looks just about ready to collapse, and Sybil doesn't blame him. Actually, she doesn't even know the last time the lagomorph _slept_ , considering the events of the past two weeks. "I can't _do this_ , Sybil." He mutters, wiping at his eyes. "If Sam were here right now, he'd know what to do. I can't solve this case on my own," He trails off, arms wrapping around his body like he's trying to convince himself he's not alone here. "He would have figured it out by now, a way to save everyone in the end. He _always_ does." He's quiet again, more quiet than she can stand when his voice comes out as hardly anything above a whisper following a pause that feels like an eternity. Then he looks up at her, and Max is blunt when he comes to terms with it. 

_Acceptance_ , that's the first step, isn't it? 

"I can't save him, can I?"

She hesitates for just a moment before she decides sugar-coating won't make this any easier. "No, Max."

He stares up at the screen. It's filled with static, as it's been through a whole lot in the past week. She can't even count the amount of times it's almost been destroyed, and it shows just enough of the monster to get a blurry picture. He swallows hard, voice wavering when he stammers. "Just gimme a minute," He mutters, eyes locked on the screen. "I'll do it, just gimme a second."

Sybil nods, passing the blocky remote into his trembling hands. "Take your time, Max." 

She doesn't want to crowd him, so she walks back to the rest of the bunch and watches the screens. Max does the same, but stands in his place with unsteady and buckling legs as he grips the control in both hands and stares up at the monitors. "Ya know, this is _bullshit_ , Sam." He mumbles under his breath. "Makin' me do this, it's not _fair_." He shakes his head at the monster on the screen, almost like he's expecting it to speak to him when he laughs, bitter and quiet as he looks down at the button. 

"Guess uh, guess I should go on and do it, huh?" He asks, looking back at the group on the other side of the lab. She nods softly along with the rest of them but doesn't say a word. There's nothing she can say to fix this or make it better, no comfort she can provide when he turns his attention back to the glaring screens. "Alright, uh," His hands shake, worse than before when he swallows hard. "I _swear_ I'm gonna get ya back, 'kay, Sam?" He says to the monitor, finger hovering over the big red button as he looks at the screen with an unsteady smile. "This ain't the end, Sam. I'm gonna figure this out, even _without_ ya, just you wait."  
  
The monitors almost seem like a bad movie if you watch them for too long, like something straight out of Japan's classic film reel. She's sworn she's watched a movie like this before, late at night or early morning when she had no work to busy herself with. She never liked the endings, though; Sybil always thought it was strange of her to wish there was a happy ending for the campy monster ravaging the city. It was never their fault they were so hostile, right? They didn't know any better.

Right now, she doesn't feel like that's such a strange thing to want anymore.

Sybil hopes Max maybe finds some comfort in distancing himself from the reality of it. Just look up at the blocky monitor and convince yourself it's just a bad movie, that's what she's been trying to do for the last hour or so. It's not _healthy_ , sure, not at all; but temporary comfort is better than nothing.

Max's fingertips hover so close to the button and she knows he's just biding time, hoping in vain that something will suddenly come into frame and fix everything. 

Unfortunately, nothing of that nature happens and Max is swallowing down the shake in his voice again when he looks up at the screen smiling. "I'll see ya soon, Sammy."

And then he presses it, and she can't help but look away with tightly shut eyes when the whole room starts to shake. She hears a massive booming noise, something straight from outside the laboratory walls. When she finally pries her eyes open, the screens are dark all around and Max is staring up at them with an unsettlingly blank expression.

He drops the remote onto the ground, and the bulky controller shatters on the concrete below. It doesn't matter now, though, the deed's been done.

It's silent in the lab, the stillness almost suffocating when Momma Bosco folds her arms over her chest and shakes her head in a display of quiet resolution from her place fiddling with the clones control panel. She'd said it was _unlikely_ that he could be brought back, and she seemed to be right. Sybil didn't know the exact science of it, but Momma Bosco had said something about how; "clones just don't work that way". 

She supposes that makes sense, the zombie-like copies that have been wandering around seem to have no mind of their own. What would make this any different? They still tried, though, but of course nothing came from it like expected.

Max wraps his arms around his middle, sinking down to his knees. She can see his shoulders shake from her place feet behind him, and she can't stand to just sit there and watch him speechlessly. It's an unnerving sight, so she doesn't hold it against the others in the room who just gape quietly. 

Sybil wasn't even sure Max _had_ the physical capabilities to cry until now, it was always so unlikely.

It just doesn't feel right.

She steps forward, pushing back her nerves and just hoping he doesn't snap and shoot at her in a grief-fueled rage. She walks over to him and puts a hand on his trembling back, kneeling down beside him. She's so close to him that she can hear his little sniffles and sobs, gasping like he just can't quite get enough air. He's quiet, and it's all the more unnerving because she's never heard him be quiet with anything. She expected screaming, cursing, destroying the lab, maybe. Because a good portion of them knew this was inevitable, but Sybil can't say she expected him to be so quiet and docile. The sight of it is more terrifying than any other alternative would be.

She rubs soothing circles on his back, and feels her stomach drop when he leans against her side and continues to cry. It's almost _nice_ , the fact that he trusts her that much, but mostly it's just sad. It makes the whole thing worse, watching him break down infront of everybody as he leans against her like he'll collapse if he doesn't have anything to hold onto. 

She can imagine that reality is just falling apart around him right now, especially after watching whatever sight must have unfolded on those screens. Because that makes it _real_ , and so does the way the city's still shuddering around them. The lab is safe, they'd made sure of that, but they couldn't say the same for a good portion of the surrounding city.

"Shh, it's okay," She hushes, voice quiet and soft as if she's talking to a child. He's not a child, of course, but he could use some of that reassurance right now. "It's going to be alright, just let it all out."

He's crying so hard and so quietly that he's gasping, almost like he's choking or hyperventilating. "This can't be _it_ , Sybil." He chokes out, and he's almost hysteric when he looks between her and the dark screen. " _Please_ , just," He sniffles. " _Please_ tell me we can _fix this_ , he can't just be _gone_." She stays quiet, rubbing at his back. 

She shakes her head. "I wish we could fix this, Max, but I don't know _how_." That only makes him cry harder, and it's such a broken sound that it makes her stomach churn. 

He's still holding himself tight in a hug when he bends in on himself. He just _cries_ , even as the scientist herself approaches them and puts a hand on Sybil's shoulder.

"Can you stay with him? I need to step out and take a look at the wreckage, see what I can start putting back together."

Sybil just gives a small nod. "Yeah, I've got him, good luck." Momma Bosco nods in appreciation and then she's gone, along with a good portion of the others who go to deal with the aftermath. Well, the aftermath of the city itself, that is. Sybil's left to deal with the rest, though she supposes it's fitting considering her past endeavors.

She really doesn't mind, as difficult a sight as it is to see.

He sags against her, arms around himself when he sniffles and hiccups with the familiar aftermath of a particularly strong bout of crying. She'd seen it in patients before, she knows he's ought to be utterly _exhausted_. 

That's when the thought hits her; the DeSoto was gone, wasn't it? In the mess of things, it certainly didn't look to be outside anymore. The two had been living out of their car inbetween cases ever since the building that contained their office had been shut down. "Max?" She utters, barely above a gentle whisper. "Do you want to stay with me? At my apartment for awhile?" She rushes to assure him when he opens his mouth. "Just until we can figure things out." 

He sniffles. "Figure things out?"

Sybil nods. "You're right, Max, there's got to be a way to change this. The least we can do is _try_ , but until then," She sighs with a small smile. "You need rest, just for a little while until we can get something figured out." He just looks at her, scanning her expression like he's searching for something.

"You're _serious_?"

Another nod, and she gives a small laugh. "Of course I am. Stranger things have happened, Max." 

Sybil goes to stand, holding a hand out to help the lagamorph off of the ground. He takes it, standing up and dusting himself off, wiping at his eyes and groaning into his paws. Poor thing looks so tired. "Tell me straight, Sybil," He mutters, and his voice still wavers from beneath his hands. "How much of a fool did I just make of myself there?" He sniffles, a weak little laugh making it's way out of him when he looks up at her. "Was it _dramatic_?"

She can't help but roll her eyes with a small smile. There he is.

"Sure, Max. If that's what you want to call it." She can't stop herself from looking back up at the screens. The pictures have returned to them, and it shows the sight of a dim sky and a city that remains somewhat untouched. Well, untouched by the blast that is, Sam's rampage had done a number on the structures. Worst of all, though, is the fact that there's nothing else on the screens, no horrifying eldritch abomination looming behind the buildings. She doesn't know why a small part of her expected there to be.

Max laughs again, low and lacking in any humor. "He uh," He wraps his arms around himself, clenching at his shoulders as he stares up at the flickering monitors with her. "Ya didn't see it, but he _waved_ at me." He sniffs. "That's gotta mean _somethin_ ', right? He never waves goodbye, y'know?" He stresses, like he's trying to reason through this.

She doesn't doubt him, and it sounds like an absolutely gut-wrenching thing to witness.

Max was right, some part of Sam was still in there.

Sybil had never doubted that, she doesn't think anybody really had, they'd just been more worried about the fate of the city and the universe and whatnot.

They'd been doomed from the start, and she has a feeling Momma Bosco knew that despite her best efforts. This was something that was going to happen no matter _what_ route they took.

Sybil puts a hand on his back, and the teary-eyed lagomorph just keeps looking at the screens like he's expecting Sam to reappear. "Yeah, I think so, Max. Maybe he knew he'd see you again." She wouldn't lie to him, some big part of her very much believes that the story's not going to end like this. 

There's always been a way to right things in the past, why would now be any different?

Max nods, wiping at his eyes and sniffling. He takes a deep breath, blinking away the remaining tears and tearing his gaze away from the flickering screens. "I don't know what to do without him," He admits with a hoarse laugh. "I dunno where to _start_..." 

Sybil can understand that; seperation anxiety, codependence, there's a lot of explanations for it. She knows _way_ too much about the inner workings of their relationship, but mainly that they've been together for years and according to various tests, the two are statistically soul mates. "How about we start with getting something to eat first?" She proposes, and Max just blinks up at her. "When was the last time you ate anything?" 

He looks at the screens again, stammering. "I uh, had a corndog last night." 

She laughs, and it's a bit of a jarring sound when there's been absolutely nothing like it within the lab's walls for weeks. "That's not a meal, Max."

The lagomorph grins up at her, seemingly brightening at the promise of food. Well at least he was easy to please, right?

"Is Stinky's open yet?" 

She surpresses a shiver. She hated the low-down diner; the food was disgusting and violated just about everything written in the Geneva Convention. Still, though, she wouldn't be surprised if it was open again only moments after the impending apocalypse. And she hasn't seen Max truly smile for a week now.

Sybil sighs inwardly, but swallows down her disgust and smiles down at him. "We can go check!"

The lagamorph smiles wider, and it's actually a _genuine_ smile that makes her feel somewhat better about the whole thing. "Heh, have ya ever been, Sybil?" 

She nods. "Uh," It was never a great experience, but she hadn't been in awhile. Maybe it magically got less disgusting. "Once or twice." She decides on, and then Max is heading towards the lab door. 

"Then y'know how _good_ it is! C'mon, let's go before they run out of the Sunday Special!" 

Sybil tries not to let her dread show on her face. The word " _special_ " had never meant what you would expect at that place. "Oh, sounds _wonderful_!" She laughs with a tight-lipped smile and follows behind the bounding lagomorph. 

It was just going to be her and Max for a while, wasn't it? Until they could somehow put the pieces back together and fix this mess.

Thinking about it, she wasn't sure if she'd ever been alone with him before now, without Sam acting as a buffer for the sake of common decency, of course. Max wasn't _notorious_ for that.

This was going to be interesting...


End file.
